


Our Daughter Needs You

by SneakABeer



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emily Deetz is mentioned, Father-Daughter Relationship, Funerals, Gen, Grief/Mourning, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SneakABeer/pseuds/SneakABeer
Summary: Emily loved taking care of Lydia, but things took an unfortunate turn when she discovered her cancer. She knew that there was nothing she could do about it, but she tried her best to raise her daughter until she couldn't anymore. Charles, her husband, is devastated by her death and attends the funeral, but when he sees Lydia's solemn expression, how could he not worry?He sighed in defeat and trudged over to his room, but before opening the door, he noticed a picture of Emily and him at their wedding."Em, how do I help her? You know I'm not good with feelings." He traced his fingers along the glossy surface of the photo.
Relationships: Charles Deetz & Lydia Deetz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Our Daughter Needs You

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the movie and musical Beetlejuice. I do not own any of the characters (sadly) and no copyright infringement is intended. Thank you.
> 
> About time I added disclaimers...

Emily Deetz was a kind woman. Charles loved everything about her. She was kind, caring, humorous, understanding, and she also loved to barge into his room while he was reading, and frantically exclaim about how their house was haunted while a young Lydia, draped in sheets, prowled the halls.

That was the other thing. She would constantly prank everyone; the neighbors, Lydia, her friends, and sometimes even him.

She and Lydia would set up haunted houses in their garage in the middle of July. Neighbors found this quite annoying, as their old neighbor, David, let out a particularly feminine scream when he fled from their garage after Emily scared him. She was disguised as the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe. In all honesty, Charles found this trait quite endearing since her pranks were usually pretty funny.

Charles knew that Emily was also very important to Lydia, because the two would always be seen together. In short, Emily was a brilliant mother. She would do the stupidest things in hindsight just because they made Lydia happy.

Once, according to Lydia, Emily had pretended to lose her keys as she screamed, “WE’RE BEING CHASED BY A MURDERER!” while she to tried to jam the door open. Everyone had looked at them strangely, but Lydia didn’t even mind because she was with her mother. Emily loved anything out of the ordinary and even influenced her daughter to do the same.

She also always looked so beautiful, her light, blond hair lightly billowing in the wind as she chased their daughter around the local park with a radiant, mischievous smile on her face. He could say the same about their daughter, Lydia. Lydia inherited more from Emily than he thought was possible. They shared the same long blond hair and brown eyes which Charles didn’t quite understand since it was supposedly a recessive trait, but he didn’t know much about genetics anyway. 

He couldn’t say the same now, as he gazed into the open casket. Charles would describe Emily as lively, but her closed eyes, devoid of the warmth she usually radiated in, proved otherwise. Her skin was pale, and her normally long hair cut was short, hanging at her jawline. He could also faintly smell the embalming fluid that they used to preserve her body. He clenched his teeth, tears stinging his eyes as they threatened to fall, but no. He couldn’t break. He had to stay strong, for his family, for his Lydia.  
He grabbed Emily’s cold, hard hand and gently caressed it with his thumb as he murmured his final words to her. He remembered what she had said to him.

‘Charles. It’s okay. I know you want to fix it, but you have to accept it– live through it. Together. Our daughter, she needs you.’  
And that was the last thing he had ever heard from her. It was a vague message, and he didn’t really understand what she meant. He knew that Emily had accepted her death, but how was he supposed to? They had a whole life ahead of them, a family to tend to. Now she was gone, merely a happy memory among all the sad ones that awaited him in the future. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to look back on those memories without breaking, which instilled a bittersweet feeling into his mind, causing his chest to ache with a sense of longing. He couldn’t say the same for Lydia though.

The teenager slowly approached the casket as he walked away from it. A clear solemn expression dominated her hardened features despite the veil that covered her face. In her gloved hand, she held a rose. The blood-red flower was clenched tightly against her chest as if she was internally sobbing. She used her other hand to lift the veil that was in front of her face as she gazed sorrowfully at her deceased mother. Her arm shook as she slowly reached out for her mother’s hand, subtly flinching at the coldness of it. She carefully opened Emily’s palm and gently slid the flower into it, closing her hand afterward. It was a single, elegant red rose among the white lilies, like a drop of blood on a sheet of clean white fabric.

Charles gazed sadly at his daughter who was now mouthing inaudible words as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She had grown to resemble her mother. She wasn’t very tall, but they shared the same nose, lips, and the same defined jawline. They both loved anything related to paranormal activity and reading old books. He would have loved to reminisce more on the endearing traits and habits of Emily and Lydia Deetz, but he flinched and stepped back as a warm hand lightly brushed against his fingers. He looked to see that his daughter had recoiled like a reprimanded dog at the gesture. He wanted to apologize but just couldn’t bring himself to. She wasn’t the only person who had lost someone important. He just couldn’t bear her resemblance to Emily, and the sight of her was like a kick to the stomach. Her shoulders were tensed and her head was lowered. The dullness of her eyes was genuinely frightening, paralleling the gaze of Emily before she– No, he couldn't think of that now. If he did, he would definitely break. It didn’t help that the hurt threatened to jump from her eyes as she met his stoic stare. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her as guilt crept into his chest. Lydia looked just like Emily did when he yelled at her for hiding her cancer. She didn't want him to know that it was already too late. Perhaps if she had told him earlier, by some chance a miracle could’ve happened and she wouldn’t be– He shook his head at the thought as it was pointless, and turned around, and started walking towards the door.

“Come on, let’s go home.” He murmured to the teen quietly. She sighed quietly, acknowledging that she had heard him as she cast one last wistful glance at the casket before they exited the room. 

The car ride on the way home was deafeningly silent, as it lacked Emily’s jokes and Lydia’s melodious laughter. To be fair, car rides had been a lot quieter ever since Emily was hospitalized, but now they were completely silent. Not even one word was spoken on the way home. Charles looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Lydia leaned on the car door, her head pressed against the window as she stared blankly into the ground. The sight scared him, as he didn’t know what to do in this situation. He wasn’t very good with emotions since he kept them bottled up inside him, resulting in them festering. Emily was always there to soothe the pain, but now that she was gone, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He and his daughter were both suffering in uncomfortable silence.

Perhaps he could hire a life coach. That might help, but he would check back on that later.  
They pulled up on their driveway. Lydia had literally bolted inside since when Charles entered, she was nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that she was in her room. He sighed, sat down on the couch, and began reading a magazine as if it could bring everything back to the way it was with Emily looking through Lydia’s photos as the teen paced around excitedly, waiting for her mother’s judgement. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sky was darkening outside. Lydia still hadn’t left her room, which worried him(Was she even in her room? He wasn’t sure.) 

He tossed his magazine which landed on the table with a soft thud and quietly climbed up the stairs, preparing to face the storm of emotions that the moody teen would throw at him. He turned and looked at Lydia's door, his hand instinctively reaching up to knock, but he hesitated. Instead, he pressed his ear against the teenager's door. Silence greeted him. Silence was the one sound that never came from Lydia's room. Well, silence didn't actually have a sound, but the young girl was almost always up to something and the rooms weren't exactly soundproof.

It was an understatement to say that he panicked. Charles hyperventilated and stood at the door for five minutes before he finally decided to knock. No reply came from inside. Lydia may have been upset, but she always answered a knock. He would have expected a "leave me alone" or a "go away" in this situation, but the silence greeted him once again. Frightened and worried, Charles slowly opened the door, mentally facepalming at the sight. The gothy teen was absent and nowhere to be seen. She wasn't even there.

He sighed in defeat and trudged over to his room, but before opening the door, he noticed a picture of Emily and him at their wedding.  
"Em, how do I help her? You know I'm not good with feelings." He traced his fingers along the glossy surface of the photo. He didn't really know how to comfort kids these days, but perhaps he could start by knowing what Lydia wanted. 

Charles opened the door and surprisingly found the mourning teen curled up in a ball on her mother's side of the bed, like a gothic cat, sobbing silently. He inhaled deeply before sitting next to her and comfortingly rubbing circles into her back. Charles would try anything and everything to comfort his daughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this! I'm pretty bad at remembering my ideas and my writing style is also kinda weird since I try changing it. This is my first fanfic and I don't really know how to use the tags so... Anyway, thank you to the very few people who've decided to read this! If you have any suggestions or tips for how to use tags or just plot ideas, it would be interesting to see those! I'm trying to improve at writing for school and things like that so bear with me! Please tell me your thoughts and criticisms in the comments!


End file.
